Underdog Mage Chronicles

by R. D. Bernstein

  Greyson took a step toward his men. “This is important, so listen up. What I am about to say will decide if you make it out of there with your head still on your neck. Inside the storage room is said to be tons of gold and silver as well as countless valuable artifacts and weapons. Ignore them all. I know it will go against every fiber of your being, but we just need the crystal. In and out quick as a fox. Got it?”

  Greyson panned across the room and saw all men nodding in understanding. Whether or not they would try to grab a few fistfuls of gold was another story. At least the point was made and for the most part would be followed.

  “With this plan, we should not encounter any mages. If you do, run. Don’t fight,” Greyson warned.

  “Let’s say this all works out,” another, younger man said. “Won’t the entire city be looking for us? We’re talking about destroying the king’s royal stables and killing dozens of guards. They won’t ignore that.”

  “No, they won’t,” Greyson agreed. “We’ll be the most wanted men in the world. But once we rid ourselves of the crystal and finish the deal, we’ll be damn hard to kill with a castle and army of our own.”

  The men chuckled.

  “Tomorrow night is already Friday, and that’s when we meet here for final preparations,” Greyson said. “Now let’s buckle down and go over the patrol routes and palace defenses. Pay attention you halfwits!”

  Chapter 8

  Lance couldn’t believe how fast Friday came. He spent the entire day yesterday going over basic attack and defense magic until he could recite some of it in his sleep. Lance acknowledged that he seemed to possess a good amount of magic power within himself, but all of the rules and intricacies of actually putting it to good use were overwhelming. Perhaps Master Lenora was right in trying to get him to be more confident, but ever since becoming crippled, he lost any semblance of a backbone.

  “I can’t believe you decided to take it already,” Charlotte told him as they made their way toward the trial room. Quincy took his early in the morning and much to Lance’s dismay, he passed. “You just got here. I don’t care what you think you know, taking the test without any real experience could get you hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Lance said, trying on Master Lenora’s confidence for size. It didn’t feel genuine at all, and Lance was sure Charlotte sensed it.

  “Just be careful,” Charlotte warned. I’ve seen overconfident and talented people fail and almost get hurt in the process.”

  Opening the set of double doors, they entered a circular room with a large area in the middle designated for the trial by different colored stone tiles. Along the side of the room were benches, currently occupied by a few blue robes and two Masters. Quincy was also in attendance, wearing his new yellow robe with a smug expression on his face.

  “Welcome!” A man with a bald head and a potbelly announced. He held his hands out to the side and greeted them with a wide smile. “I am Master Porthos and will be initiating your trials today. Since there are two of you, the lady will go first. As you all know, each trial is completely unique.”

  He pointed toward Lance and motioned to the spectator seats.

  “Good luck!” Lance whispered as he made his way over to sit with the others.

  Lance watched as Charlotte rolled up her sleeves and stood ready. Charlotte had told him she failed the test two times already, but she was more confident in her ability now. He hoped she made it.

  “The trial is not only a symbol of our kind, but it is a way to prove one has progressed in their training and is truly ready for the next stage,” Master Porthos said. “Failing the test is not an end but a reminder of how difficult our craft is. Please, step into the center.”

  Charlotte stepped into the middle as the audience watched in anticipation. Porthos took out two tubes and handed them to her. In one tube were several silver flakes, while in the other were several copper ones. He then walked over to the corner of the room and picked up a heavy stone, bringing it back to the center and placing it onto the floor. His face was flushed red from the exertion, and Lance imagined the stone must be quite heavy.

  “For this trial, you will have one minute to ingest the metal and prepare. Then you will be expected to break through this stone and retrieve the coin at its center. Once you have it in your hand, you pass the test. However, while you are working on that, I will be walking around you, periodically throwing small stones. If any of the stones hit you, you are eliminated. Understood?”

  Charlotte nodded. Lance thought she looked fairly confident, but being able to multitask like that would be no easy task.

  Master Porthos held his meaty hand up into the air and yelled, “Begin!”

  Lance and the others watched as Charlotte quickly and smoothly swallowed the silver and copper flakes. Her body shook slightly as the metal coursed through her veins. She began to wave her left hand around her, her eyebrows narrowed in concentration as she weaved a complex spell all the way around her. With her other hand she pointed toward the stone and a jet of energy shot out from her hand and began to chip away at its hard exterior.

  While she held her hands out in both directions, Master Porthos began to encircle her, throwing stone after stone. He searched for any weaknesses in her shield, but so far found none. The stones bounced off of her nearly invisible shield. For several minutes this continued.

  After a few more minutes, Charlotte’s arms began to waver, her strength waning. The stone was still intact, only a portion of it chipped away with a good deal of it remaining. Her shields began to shimmer each time they were hit, a sign that their strength was starting to diminish. Soon, it would begin to falter and disappear altogether.

  Charlotte let one rock bounce off the shield and then she lowered them altogether, using both hands to increase the intensity of the energy. The stone began go chip away faster, but Lance was worried she was exposed.

  Seeing the opening, Master Porthos hurled a stone at her, but she was ready. She kept the energy up against the stone as she ducked completely under it. Another stone whizzed by her as she sidestepped.

  A loud crack sounded and the stone split in half, revealing a gold coin. Charlotte dove forward, rolled just out of reach of another stone and came up with the gold coin in her hand. She was breathing heavily as Lance and several others clapped excitedly for her. Lance looked over and was surprised to see Quincy clapping.

  After a worker was called to clear the stone debris from the floor, Porthos pointed toward Lance.

  “You’re next,” he said.

  Lanced stood up and took his time walking to the center of the room. His ruined leg was throbbing in pain from all the walking, training, and going up and down stairs lately. He adjusted his eye patch so that it was squarely on his face and not likely to shift too much when the trial began. He was starting to sweat, his nerves making him feel like his limbs were made of jelly.

  “Lance, your trial we will be…” Porthos was cut short as a palace guard burst into the room through the heavy double doors.

  “Fire! The stables are on fire and it is spreading to the lower parts of the keep. Everyone needs to get to the evacuation area until we sort it out!” The guard yelled.

  * * *

  Lance walked with the others, trying his best to keep up, but he soon lagged behind as the others hurried to get outside. Master Porthos made sure Lance knew where to go before they went on ahead of him telling him they would see him soon.

  His leg felt like it was being poked by hundreds of tiny needles and he hoped it didn’t give out on him. When he passed one hallway heading in the other direction, he paused. The storage room doors were wide open.

  Lance went to investigate even though his leg was hurting and he knew he had to get outside to join the others. A warning, tingling sensation crept up the back of his neck telling him that something was wrong. The doors had no reason to be open, especially during a fire evacuation.

  Making his way slowly toward the doors, he yelled out as a man d
ressed in black barreled into Lance, bowling him over. As Lance fell to the ground, he looked up to see several men holding swords and approaching him.

  Lance tried to come up with a spell but his mind was in a panic. The first man reached him and swung his sword.

  In mid-air, the sword flew out of his hand and clanged against the far wall just before hitting him.

  All eyes turned to see Master Lenora standing there, her hands outstretched. Her hands swirled around her readying an attack spell. Lance couldn’t be more thankful to see her.

  The relief disappeared quickly as Master Lenora’s mouth opened in shock, a blade passed through her stomach from behind.

  “No!” Lance bellowed.

  Greyson pulled his bloody blade out and pushed Lenora to the floor. “Run, you fools! We have what we came for!”

  The dozen or so men, all in black, ran off following after Greyson.

  Lance struggled to his feet and hobbled over to Master Lenora. Her breathing was shallow, the wound leaking blood at a terrible rate.

  “I’ll… I’ll go get help,” Lance stammered.

  “No. It’s… too late for me,” Master Lenora whispered. Her body shuddered and she grimaced from the pain. “You have so much talent in you Lance. Promise me you’ll complete your training and strive to do great things.”

  Tears welled up in Lance’s good eye. “You saved my life…”

  “So don’t waste it…” Lenora’s stare went blank, her eyes glazing over as her head lolled to the side.

  Lance lay there long after Master Lenora passed away.

  * * *

  The funeral for Master Lenora and several dozen guardsmen brought the entire palace to witness. It was a somber affair. Many people grieved. Flowers were placed lovingly around a painted portrait of Master Lenora. She was buried in her black robes, a common practice among the mages.

  Afterward, King Triton held an emergency council meeting with his advisors in his throne room, Master Sellius one of them. King Triton was a powerfully built man nearing his late fifties, his hair still thick and full, although more grey than black now. The throne he sat on was simple, yet elegant. The throne room itself was massive, columns as thick as oak trees holding up its tall ceiling. The elite royal guards in their gold armor lined the perimeter of the room, staring straight ahead and standing at full attention.

  “The Dark Ones are responsible for this? They’ve never done something so bold and foolish before,” King Triton asked. He took his crown off and rubbed at his temples. He had gotten very little sleep in the last few days and this wouldn’t help his raging migraine.

  “Yes, we have confirmation of their group being behind this,” Master Sellius replied.

  “We cannot stand for this!” King Triton bellowed, slamming his fist onto the table.

  “We all agree,” an advisor to the left of him said. “The only option is to retaliate and to do so will bring war, but a very unconventional war. We don’t know exactly how many men they have, nor all of their locations. That could be problematic to hunt them down.”

  “We need to crush them,” King Triton stated. “All of them once and for all. Stamp them out. We should have done so a long time ago instead of letting them fester and spread like the poisonous plague they are. I don’t care if we have to go door to door in order to weed them out.”

  “I concur,” another advisor said.

  “I am not asking for your opinion,” King Triton announced. “I am telling you what will be. Master Sellius, I will need to borrow some of your mages in this endeavor. We gather all of our intelligence and then scour the kingdom for any trace of the scum. I want no rock left unturned.”

  “As you wish,” Master Sellius replied. ”I shall send my men to you this afternoon.”

  In the meantime, I already sent my messengers to surrounding barons and keeps to ask for support in weeding them out,” King Triton informed them. “The Dark Ones will be no more come week’s end.”

  Chapter 9

  Greyson turned to address his men. Forty of them went on the mission and all forty returned to the meeting spot, crystal in hand.

  “The entire king’s army will be pursuing us, especially since we murdered one of his mages,” Greyson said. “The Dark Ones will be no more. I have leaked locations of some of our smaller hideouts to stall them from us as we make our way to the Drakaran. We won’t need our old group any more. Stick with me and we will have a castle somewhere far from here. Wives a’ plenty for all of us!”

  A cheer went up.

  “When we reach the Drakaran, don’t do anything foolish,” Greyson warned. “They are more powerful than we can imagine.”

  “What kind of gold are we talking about?” One of the men asked.

  Greyson grinned. “A treasure chest for each of us. I will be buying a noble’s castle and you are each welcome to stay.”

  “Won’t the king follow us?” A man toward the back asked.

  “Of course, which is why we will travel very far and purchase a small army. If they can even track us that far, they will not have the resources to risk sieging a castle so far away.”

  “Betraying our own men to help us get away…” said another man. “That is the most horrible, vile, ingenious thing yet. Good show! You have this well thought out.”

  “Of course,” Greyson replied. “It’s what I do.”

  * * *

  It was difficult for Lance to return to take his test as if nothing had happened, but he was determined to follow through with Master Lenora’s last words. She had believed in him when so many others had tossed him aside as just a crippled.

  Lance desperately wanted to hear about the hunt for the Dark Ones. Hopefully they would track them all down, especially the ones directly responsible for last night. If he couldn’t feel safe in the royal palace, Lance would never feel safe. Knowing the Dark Ones were gone from the world would go a long way to a much more peaceful life.

  Master Porthos’ voice brought Lance out of his thoughts.

  “Are you ready?”

  Lance nodded. He took a move from Charlotte and rolled up his sleeves. He glanced over toward the spectator benches and saw that they were unusually filled. He caught a glimpse of Charlotte, and behind her was Quincy. He might as well have magic lasers attached to his eyes for the feeling his angry gaze gave off.

  Master Porthos took out a large hourglass from a bag on the floor and held it out.

  “You must hit all ten targets before the sand reaches the bottom,” Porthos explained. “The targets will all move in random directions. Good luck.”

  Lance moaned. When he practiced with the dummies they were stationary. A moving target… ten of them would be impossible.

  Lance shook his head. No, not impossible. He could do this.

  Master Porthos held up his hand and a couple of workers at the far end of the room pulled down on ropes. Small circular metal objects descended from the ceiling. The men at the far end began to pull and swing their ropes in seemingly random movements, the metal circles moving in all directions around the wall like a group of butterflies.

  They moved so fast that it was hard to focus on one of them before another whizzed by distracting from its path.

  Master Porthos handed one tube of several silver flakes to Lance and he quickly swallowed them. It swept into his bloodstream like a tidal wave, bringing with it a sense of power.

  Master Porthos turned the hourglass upside down and placed it on the floor. Lance watched in horror as the sand trickled down in a steady stream, far faster than he anticipated.

  His heart raced as he focused. Lance shot his hand out and a spear materialized, shooting forward with terrifying speed. It clanged into the far wall, missing the nearest target by a good foot.

  Lance glanced down again and noted the amount of sand that had already fallen. In frustration, he shot out a blast of energy, missing the targets by a lot. Growing more frustrated and feeling like he was letting Master Lenora down, Lance shot bolt after bol
t of glowing blue energy. After dozens of attempts, he only managed to hit one and only by pure luck. With nine more to go, he had to hurry up.

  That’s when his eyes met Charlotte’s gaze and she motioned with her hand to slow down.

  Lance took a deep breath and closed his eyes deapite the pressing feeling of needing to hurry. He took in another breath and opened his eyes, sensing the movements of the metal circles. His mind was clear and calm as he focused every remaining bit of magic energy he had left and shot nine lightning bolts out of his fingertips, each one hitting the remaining targets with one bolt each. The clang of all targets being hit at once sounded just before the last drops of sand fell to the bottom.

  Lance fell to his knees in exhaustion, sweat dripping down his body. He had pulled more energy than just the silver flakes, and the borrowed iron from his blood took its toll. He felt weak and dizzy, but he had passed the test.

  “Well done!” Master Porthos congratulated as the spectators cheered. “Welcome to the yellow robes.”

  * * *

  At the same moment Lance passed his test, Greyson and what remained of the Dark Ones rode their horses til near exhaustion many miles away. They passed through fields and across streams, all the while glancing back to see if they were being followed.

  “This is it,” Greyson announced, holding up his hand. “Let the horses rest here. We’ll need to travel much further if we want to escape.”

  The men leapt to the ground and stretched their legs from the long ride.

  “About time you showed up,” a man wearing black robes said, stepping out from behind a tree.

  “Master Belltar,” Greyson replied. “I am happy to see you here.”

  “Like hell you are,” Master Belltar said. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the horses. “I’m just here to collect my share of the gold. I risked everything to give you the storage room’s location and to ensure the guards were gone that night. I made good on my promises and I intend to make sure you do the same. And unlike you who gets to run away, I need to return and pretend everything is normal until I retire. I hold most of the risk.”